


This city

by ed6



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Character Study, Drug Use, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, I'm not sure how to tag this but it isn't a happy ending!, Losing feelings, M/M, Mostly younghyun-centric we're in his head, References to Depression, References to Drugs, they're in uni but it's just implied and not that big of a part in the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ed6/pseuds/ed6
Summary: Younghyun's found warmth in the city once again, through a boy named Jae. Jae’s place was cool. He has bottles for key holders, though Younghyun never really asked if they came with the apartment. It’s run down, its air conditioning is deafening after a couple of hours, but it’s the best place in the world.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Kudos: 16





	This city

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in this style (focusing more on descriptive language than dialogue) before so don't mind if it's a little awkward/abstract at moments! 
> 
> ++ comments/feedback r greatly appreciated cus i'd really like to expand my writing styles and stuff :p

The passing cars and blurry faces never felt like home. He sighs as the passing motorcycle whines, ringing through the silence of the night. When his bus approaches, he steps on hurriedly, he was in a rush.

He was in no rush; he just wanted to get back in the safety of his home. Technically, it wasn’t his home. It was a rented apartment; nowhere near the best, but sufficient. And he didn’t even rent it alone; it was shared.

This city, nothing was his. 

The neon lights of the nearby bars seemed to be laughing at him as he sighs once again, forming a mist on the window. Cold, the air around him is always cold. He felt like that too, sometimes. Recently, most of the time. This city is really getting to him.

-

“Younghyun.” Sungjin nudges him awake. “Younghyun. Younghyun.”

“Younghyun,” fourth time’s a charm, said  _ no one _ . Younghyun groans while squinting at the immense light right before his eyes - curse Sungjin for making use of his light sensitivity to wake him up. 

“Alright, I’m up, I’m up,” he says, rubbing his eyes because they burned so badly. Hell, he might even get up to wash his face. 

“We’re studying today and I don’t care what excuses you’re going to give to get out of it,” Sungjin responds curtly. He stuffs his books in his bag while effortlessly not breaking eye contact with Younghyun. 

“My grades are shit.”

“Exactly. Get back here in ten minutes, God, I’m so confused as to how you function as a person.”

He chuckles as he finally launches himself off the bed, because he completely agreed with Sungjin; how the hell does he even function as a person? 

They’re out of the house in no time as Younghyun checks himself out in the mirrors and reflections of passing cars and glass windows. Not bad for someone who took ten minutes to get ready, was what he thought. He’s absolutely right. 

Within this endless pit he feels himself free-falling into, in slow motion, he’s glad that he has complete control of what he looks like. At least it’s within his reach. 

Sometimes he feels desperate. He doesn’t know what for. Sungjin snaps his fingers. “Hey, genius, we’re here. The cafe was three shops back.”

“You didn’t stop me?” Younghyun raises a brow and Sungjin shoots him back with the exact same expression. 

“I mentioned it three times,” he’s so exasperated. Younghyun would be too. He’s just not in the mood. “What’s with you lately?”

Younghyun scoffs. “What’s with  _ everyone _ lately?”

-

Sungjin’s busy with a project for another class and Younghyun decides that this is the best time to escape within his reach. He’s over at Jae’s.

Jae’s was cool. He has bottles for key holders, though Younghyun never really asked if they came with the apartment. It’s run down, its air conditioning is deafening after a couple of hours, but it’s the best place in the world. 

It’s better when they’re taking drags out of the same blunt, spewing out the thoughts that they’d crammed at the back of their minds and swore to never say out loud. “The government is hiding the cure for cancer,” Jae mumbles. Younghyun agrees though he barely hears what Jae’s saying. He’s more focused on the bowl of grapes on the table.

“You know what gets hospitals the most money? Long term care.” Jae’s eyes widen and they’re adorable. His eyes. Not Jae.

“You know what disease requires long term care?” They’re not closing, Jae’s eyes. Younghyun finds it the most hilarious thing in the world. “Cancer. Dun dun dun.”

Jae sings to himself dramatically.

“Dude, are you high?” Younghyun asks while he accepts the blunt from Jae again. Jae shakes his head. 

“No way I am. Are you?”

“Am I?”

“I don’t know.”

Jae’s is cool, is the only thing Younghyun remembers thinking when he’s on the bus back to his own apartment. He can’t stop thinking about the light leaking through the cracks of the blinds, shining on Jae’s strange floral bedsheets, or the scattered books all over his desk with the weirdest bookmarks stuffed within the pages. 

“This is my favorite book,” Jae says, and Younghyun remembers a game cartridge slipping out from the middle of the pages. “Damn, I lost the page I was at.”

He loses his pages when he’s with Jae. Does it make sense? Younghyun’s not really making sense these days. He feels alive when he’s doing it with Jae. _ It _ , meaning living. And also weed.

The bus screeches to a stop when someone runs to flag it. It startles Younghyun and he’s back to reality.

He imagines Sungjin nagging him when he comes home. “Stop smoking so much weed, this is why you’re failing school.”

“No, Sungjin, I’m failing school because I’m depressed,” he imagines saying that.

But when he gets home, he ignores Sungjin’s gaze, hops into the shower immediately and keeps his laundry separately. Sungjin doesn’t need to know anything. Sungjin’s not his mom.

-

“I see all these things in the city but they’re not mine. Nothing’s mine.”

“I think what you’re experiencing is loneliness,” the other replies, not looking up from his book. “Should we get started?”

He’s over at Jae’s again, and the more he felt like he shouldn’t, he wanted to. To quote a semi-overplayed song,  _ where’s the fun in doing what you’re told? _

Younghyun thinks that Jae’s kind of stupid. Yet he’s one of the wisest people Younghyun knows. He wishes that Jae would stop smoking so much weed - in Sungjin’s voice - it kills your brain cells.

Fuck brain cells, Younghyun scoffs while Jae’s rolling a joint and it’s the most enticing thing in the world. But he feels his heart hurt right before Jae pulls out a lighter from another one of his books. 

“Wait,” he says abruptly. Jae looks up, hair falling over his eyes, blinking slowly. 

“Can we just talk?” he says and he doesn’t know why.

“What’s there to talk about?” Jae replies. Younghyun shrugs, because Jae’s right. He lets Jae light it up because he knows the pain in his heart was going to disappear as soon as it was between his lips.

There are so many things to talk about, but so little care in the world. I don’t care, Younghyun thinks. And he doesn’t care.

-

His days are so hazy and he never remembered feeling this way the first few months he was here. It started with days mashing together, and now his entire life felt like one long, tiring year.  _ Happy fucking new year _ , he scoffs at the signs. He finds himself scoffing a lot these days. 

He’s never wanted a year to end this badly before.

Sungjin’s by his side and so is Wonpil and Dowoon. They’re basically friends and they actually hang out after school. But all Younghyun can think about at any given moment was the lighter in one of Jae’s books, the red one with the hardback cover. 

“I have to make a phone call,” Younghyun excuses himself as he passed by Wonpil, tapping the first name on his contact list. It rings twice and Jae picks up. “What’s up?”

“Hey, don’t put your lighter in your book. Y’know, the red one. It’s kinda dangerous.”

“You called to tell me that?”

“Yeah,” Younghyun begins to realize that he’s being stupid.

Jae laughs over the line, his choked laughter that was always a constant. It feels like a sudden breeze blowing away the haze above his head. Suddenly everything’s clear.

“I’ll change it. Thanks for caring about me,” Jae says when he finally contains himself. “See you soon, yeah?”

“See you soon. Bye,” he doesn’t want to hang up but he can’t figure out what else to say. 

When Jae hangs up, the haze returns. Younghyun can feel himself choking to death without a mask.

-

His head is in the clouds. Jae’s out of reach. “I can’t catch you.”

“I’m right here,” Jae replies. He has a pen between his lips. The pen’s now in his hand.

“You’re… not.”

“Trust me, I think I am.”

“Prove it,” Younghyun dares Jae. Sometimes he forgets that Jae’s a year older than him. 

Jae seems to be thinking about how to prove himself and proceeds to place a hand on Younghyun’s shoulder. “Enough?”

“Not enough,” Younghyun replies, because he’s craving much more but he’s not sure what he’s craving for. 

Jae doesn’t lunge forward, face blank as he moves gently and somewhat gracefully as the pen falls between his fingers. Younghyun lets himself fall onto the bed clumsily, with a thud, holding back his laughter; what a great juxtaposition. 

Jae notices but doesn’t care to say a word as his eyes are focused on Younghyun’s lips, and Younghyun’s on Jae’s, because he’s been thinking about this every day leading up to this very moment, and this moment is what makes him realize. 

He realizes that Jae’s kissing him, warm and soft, and it’s the best feeling in the entire world, a feeling that blows away the clouds on a rainy day. It feels the same as when the water heater in his apartment finally works and he takes the occasional warm shower. It’s home. 

It’s his. 

“I like you so much,” Younghyun whispers as soon as Jae’s done.

“I might like you even more,” Jae smiles and he feels so warm. Younghyun wants to kiss him forever, and now he does.

It’s mine, Younghyun thinks. Jae’s mine. 

He wraps his arms tightly over Jae’s neck and he never wants to let go.

-

I own something in the city, Younghyun smirks. And now he’s laughing at the neon signs because the puns on them are lame. 

The moment it happened is what made Younghyun realize. He likes Jae, not weed. He smokes weed to see Jae. Jae doesn’t usually smoke weed. They could see each other without smoking weed. Jae likes him. Jae’s his. 

The deafening motorcycles didn’t even annoy him as much as they did before. He has something that no one else in the world has.

A giant jawbreaker had exploded over the earth and painted everything rainbow. 

Younghyun’s so happy that everything feels fake. He has to kiss Jae twice every time he sees him to make sure that it’s real. 

And when he knows it’s real, his mind dances. 

-

“Boyfriend. No more weed. Working brain cells,” the first (not) sentence that Sungjin forms when Jae comes over for the first time is alarmingly descriptive of the entire situation. “Nice,” Sungjin says, and that’s all he has to say.

“And he’s a real person.”

“Of course he’s real, I’m looking right at him,” Sungjin furrows his eyebrows at Younghyun. Jae waves awkwardly.

-

It’s coming down and Younghyun feels a little afraid of losing Jae no matter how much the other reassures him. It’s like the feeling of impending doom; you don’t know if this is sustainable. You don’t know when you’re going to run out. 

“You have me.”

“Have I got you?”

“Always.”

The only thing you’re scared of is running out. 

His head is always in those books and Younghyun knows he has nothing to worry about. He’s worried about himself. He wouldn’t know what to do without Jae.

And when Jae reassures him with something a little more than a kiss, something that leaves him so tired yet so satisfied, his mind takes a break for a while. 

His mind needs to take a damn vacation.

-

Today feels bleak, the kind of day where you’d hear your favorite song blasted in your ears but you don’t feel like moving at all.

The kind of day where you’d have your favorite class but you stay at home instead because your insides don’t feel well. Your insides are okay, your mind is the one telling you otherwise. Your mind controls you.

The kind of day where you think the window by your bedside is just the most tempting thing in the whole wide world even though you live on the third floor.

It’s the kind of day where you forget who loves you, and you realize that you’ve made a big mistake when your head and legs are already out the window, and your boyfriend’s watching you from the first floor, and it’s all already too late. 

It’s too late when you lose your grip and fall to the ground, but hey, I’d rather die than explain myself. 

Younghyun jerks awake as he hits the ground to the inconsiderate moonlight shining right into his eyes. Jae’s next to him and Younghyun’s foot is not broken. Neither is his elbow.

That’s how the day started. It was that kind of day where he’d hear his favorite song yet not move an inch. 

Jae shuffles in bed next to him. It’s still dark out, but Jae jolts awake, almost like his circadian rhythm was syncing with Younghyun’s. His hair’s strewn all over his face, eyes getting used to their surroundings as he squinted them multiple times, clearing his throat once. He smiles. 

“Good morning.”

It’s a lot, but he keeps it in because Jae looks so happy. Because Jae makes things so much better.

-

Jae works better than weed. Jae’s happiness drowns out Younghyun’s sadness, leaving it drowning in a pool of its own tears as it screams and screams for help but to no avail, because Younghyun’s not entertaining it. Younghyun’s too busy staring into Jae’s eyes, too busy embracing every inch of his being. 

Jae works better than anything in this world, the way he’d suck Younghyun dry, leaving him nothing but a pulp, the shell of the man he used to be. But he’d lost that part of him a long time ago, and Younghyun can’t really remember the last time he felt something.

But he’s restored these days, and filled to the brim, eyes tearing as he feels so good inside of Jae, and the way Jae was moaning was really getting to his brain. 

His tears fall and they’re salty on his tongue, his senses feel heightened and he’s never felt so present. 

Jae tightens around him and he feels his stomach give way as he yells, gripping so tightly onto the sheets that his knuckles are whiter than a sheet of paper. 

“I love you,” he breathes out as they unfold and collapse next to each other on Jae’s bed. 

“I love you too,” Jae replies. To that, Younghyun’s heart beats like the first time.

-

Jae disappears when Younghyun’s love reaches the maximum on the lever.   
  


-

A moment of painful insolence, and Younghyun’s looking away. Jae’s talking about something. Younghyun would’ve been more interested a week ago. 

At the corner of his eye, Jae chucks a packet of cigarettes into the trash can. Littered the trash can were pages of Jae’s book. The red one with the hardback. 

Jae’s eyes are losing color and Younghyun’s starting to lose the city. On some nights the street lights were too jarring again. Or maybe his light sensitivity was just getting worse with age.

Jae also has light sensitivity. He’s always in the dark.

Jae has a sunlight allergy. He doesn’t go out. 

Jae has a peach allergy. Younghyun doesn’t really care for peaches.

Jae’s lactose intolerant. It’s fine, because Younghyun prefers americanos. Thank God he wasn’t gluten intolerant.

Jae’s leaving his own apartment. Younghyun watches. “Cigarettes,” Jae explains though Younghyun didn’t ask. 

Younghyun stands up when he’s left alone in Jae’s apartment. The place loses its flair when Jae isn’t in it, and Younghyun paces to the door. Carefully, he places a hand on the ring holders. Bottles. They’re stuck into the wall tightly and snugly, sturdy and stable. Something Jae couldn’t have done. Jae’s a troglodyte.

Younghyun’s silence intolerant. Aimless intolerant. Illogical Intolerant. And right now he’s having the worst stomach ache.

-

Jae disappears from most of his days and Sungjin starts to appear more. Exams, exams, exams, he says. Younghyun rolls his eyes.

“Where’s Jae?” Sungjin finally says something that piques his interest.

“Probably smoking out there somewhere, still trying to convince himself that he focuses better on studying after smoking,” Younghyun says with a straight face.

To this, Sungjin doesn’t know how to reply and he looks back down at his stack of books. Quietly, this time, he clears his throat, are you guys okay?

“What? We’re fine,” Younghyun laughs it off, but Sungjin’s more cautious than assured, more wary than relieved. “We agreed to see each other less until my exams are over. Apparently he doesn’t have exams, just reports.” 

Literature students, right? 

He thinks and thinks, but somehow can’t figure out a way to contact Jae again once his exams are over. He always leaves to buy cigarettes these days. Younghyun never knows when he’s coming back.

And so he doesn’t. Younghyun doesn’t call Jae anymore, neither does he text. He waits for a reply on December 14, the day his exams end. Jae doesn’t say anything, so neither does Younghyun. 

Another week goes by. Nothing. 

It hurts so much. But you can’t see it. Younghyun can’t see it either because he’s had his head buried in books for the past three weeks, those non-fiction self-help books that Jae hated with a passion. 

It’s not like Younghyun’s into those books. Younghyun doesn’t even like reading. He’s just trying to make himself a little different from Jae.

So it hurts less.

He’s forgotten what it’s like to own something. It’s like his heart had been ripped out his chest. It’s like he was kidnapped. He’s not present anymore.

Jae’s absence felt like a grey area in his life. 

-

“What happened?” Was the first thing Wonpil says. He somehow almost always manages to make Younghyun open up. He’s like a laxative, but with words. Use words, Younghyun. Do not cry. Don’t cry, don’t you dare fucking cry.

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” and he’s crying while Wonpil pats him on the back, reassuring him with words Younghyun cannot hear over his own sobs. 

“It’s okay to cry,” Wonpil says. 

_ It’s not okay to cry, Younghyun thinks. It’s never okay to load your emotional burden out on somebody else, it’s not fucking okay to cry. You don’t deserve to cry. Wonpil doesn’t deserve to deal with this bullshit.  _

“It’s okay,” Wonpil says again. 

_ It’s not okay. _

He’s not okay. He’s not fine. Holding back more tears, sobs, and screams that he wants to voice out, Younghyun sniffs and clears his throat. “How do I make him love me again?”

This is why he hated the city. This is why he didn’t own anything in it.

On his way home, Younghyun feels the way he did exactly three months ago. Over a love so short-lived, was any of this worth it? This pain, and this despair. He’s walking today. He’s not in a rush to get back at all.

He’s starting to find comfort in the loneliness of the city. At the side of the road stood a drunk man, yelling at a street sign, and Younghyun’s smiling. 

The stupid puns in neon lights were no longer a problem. Younghyun throws rocks at them and they buzz and make sparks and he hopes that there aren’t any surveillance cameras around.

It’s so funny how it takes so much to get somewhere and how little time it takes in comparison to lose everything you had and wanted. It could take 825 words to suddenly lose someone you thought you had. It could take the time taken to read one novel with a red hardback cover, it could also take five packets of cigarettes. Either way, you’ve lost them.

And to the buzzing of the neon signs and deafening motorcycles, the empty streets that look like they’d been wiped out by a massive plague, Younghyun thinks that maybe it’s better that nothing’s his. 

The cold air seeps into his bones once again. This city finally feels like home.


End file.
